


Memories of Midnight Mario Kart

by aoifeoftheshadows



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-10-30 13:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10877682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoifeoftheshadows/pseuds/aoifeoftheshadows
Summary: Kenma finds that years of separation don't soften the pain of his breakup, especially when his ex shows up in Tokyo without warning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, this is my first fanfic, so please bear with me. I'm not sure yet how long this thing's gonna get, but I hope you like it. It's loosely based off the song This Town by Niall Horan, and was supposed to be mostly angst but may end up being more fluff than I intended. Anyway, here goes.

Five years later, and Kenma still wasn’t over the breakup. He’d decided it would be easier to break up when his boyfriend, a year above him, went off to college, rather than miss him all the time. Kenma had been planning to go to a different college also, so he figured he should break it off before time and distance did it for them. He was beginning to realize how stupid he had been. 

Kenma had always been decidedly introverted. He spent most of his time playing video games, especially handhelds, and rarely engaged in physical activity as a child. Then his best friend dragged him into joining the volleyball team. Kenma struggled at first - he wasn’t used to such rigorous exercise, but it made his friend happy, so he stuck with it. After a few weeks, Kenma had realized that it wasn’t so bad, and when they won their first game of the season, he was almost happy. He did wonder if there was something he was missing, as he watched how excited his friend and the other boys got, because he didn’t feel anything that intense. In fact, he never felt anything intensely. His friend assured him that it wasn’t a problem, Kenma was still human, after all. Kenma found solace in the knowledge that his friend didn’t think he was weird, but he still thought about it.

When he reached high school, Kenma realized he was falling for his best friend. He’d become more withdrawn, trying to hide it, because he wasn’t even sure if his friend was interested in men. But his friend was very observant, especially when it came to Kenma, and had noticed him pulling away, becoming less responsive and disappearing into virtual realms. He’d always looked out for Kenma, and confronted him about this new, strange behavior after about a week. Reluctantly, Kenma had confessed, and fortunately, his friend felt the same way. 

Two years of bliss passed, and Kenma met an energetic ginger from another school who made him actually excited to play volleyball. Two years of bliss with his best friend, his boyfriend, going on dates almost once a week, and Kenma was really, truly happy.

But then he had to go and ruin everything.

This morning Kenma had woken up, rolled over and stretched out his arms to hug a ghost - a habit that five years of sleeping alone had not been able to break him of. Sighing, he fumbled until he found the scarlet Nekoma hoodie under his pillow, five years old and in need of a wash, not to mention too big for Kenma. He couldn’t bring himself to wash it, not when it was the only thing left that smelled like his boyfriend. Pressing the sweatshirt to his face, he breathed deeply, then sighed again. Perhaps he should just give in. The scent he wanted was barely there after five years anyway, but Kenma felt that washing the sweatshirt would mean saying goodbye to his former partner for once and for all, and he just wasn’t ready. ‘Not today, anyway,’ he muttered aloud, and got up to scrounge some breakfast. 

Through the kitchen window, he looked out over the rooftops to the Tokyo tower in the distance. He’d come home to Tokyo after college, working in video game design, and had chosen this apartment because it reminded him of his old friend Shoyou. Most mornings he smiled a little when he thought of this, but today he was lost in different memories, and the passing thought of Shoyou flitted away unnoticed.

He left twenty minutes early, driving down to a nearby coffeeshop for something to ensure he stayed somewhat awake through the workday, then headed to a park a few blocks away to drink it in solitude. The park was one he’d come to often as a child, attached to a large fairground used for various festivals throughout the year. Slumped over in a swing, he took out his DS as he began to sip tentatively at his coffee. 

‘Pokemon, huh?’

Kenma jumped at the voice, nearly spilling coffee all down his front. As it was, a brown puddle splashed onto the dirt, and he sighed, turning to see who had interrupted his quiet time. 

Khaki pants, neatly ironed. A green striped polo, one button precariously in need of restitching. A mass of black, untamed hair framing an amused smirk. 

Oh no.

Kenma looked back at his game to avoid eye contact, finally allowing himself to think the name he’d been tiptoeing around for most of five years. Kuroo Tetsurou. Kenma was confused - he’d thought Kuroo was living near Miyagi, what was he doing here? And so confident, although Kenma thought he had detected a hint of uncertainty beneath the casual grin Kuroo wore. Glancing at his watch, Kenma sighed for about the seventh time this morning. It was almost time to head to work. He most definitely did not have time to talk to Kuroo now. 

Saving and putting away his console, he looked up at his former best friend, his former boyfriend, and said, ‘I have to go to work now.’ He paused, seeing Kuroo’s eyebrows draw together, and added, ‘But I’ll probably be here around six?’ He let it be a question, walking away to climb in the car. 

‘Ok’ He thought he heard Kuroo mumble as he closed the door, started the car, and sighed - again.

Work was uneventful, and Kenma lost himself in the codes until five, when his shift ended and he suddenly remembered that morning. Coffee. Park. Kuroo.

Damn.

He drove home and sat for half an hour in his bedroom, staring absently at the hoodie on his lap. The white letters - NEKOMA - were faded and worn, the fabric wrinkled from being stuffed beneath his pillow every night. ‘I really should give you back,’ he said sadly. ‘You belong to him; I should give you back.’  
Finally he decided he really should leave if he wanted to get to the park in time, checked his hair in the mirror (not as bad as Kuroo’s, aka. fine), grabbed the hoodie, and left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is more fluff than anything but I like it a lot. also, Heather, my oc, is a star I love her.

When he pulled up at the park, Kuroo was already there, standing in the middle of the spinning merry-go-round in the otherwise empty park. Kenma reluctantly got out of the car and realized as he got closer that Kuroo had his eyes closed.

‘Hey,’ he said softly. Kuroo didn’t react, shifting his balance carefully atop the merry-go-round.  
‘HEY.’

Kuroo startled, nearly losing his balance, and sat down so fast Kenma might have laughed, if he’d been sure they were still friends. 

‘Hey,’ Kuroo managed, gasping for breath. ‘You scared me.’ 

‘Yes, I’m terrifying,’ Kenma flatlined, and Kuroo chuckled breathlessly. Kenma reached out and halted the merry-go-round - it was making him dizzy, and he was fairly sure it wasn’t any better for Kuroo.

‘So,’ Kuroo said after a pause.

Kenma raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re the one who showed up in Tokyo with no warning. I’m not helping you make this less awkward. It’s your own fault.’

‘Was it my fault when you -’ Kuroo stopped, shaking his head. ‘No, sorry, I know I should have told you, or just not come, but I wanted - I don’t know. To surprise you, I guess.’

‘Making me spill coffee when I’m trying to play Pokemon is hardly a pleasant surprise.’ Kenma looked at Kuroo skeptically, and Kuroo broke out laughing.

‘Sorry,’ he gasped. ‘But, you were just, just sitting there, and, and I thought, maybe, I’ll just, walk up behind him, and, say hi, but you, didn’t hear me, and you, jumped so high…’ He was almost tearing up at this point, body shaking, face red from lack of air, and Kenma smiled a little.

‘It’s okay,’ he responded. ‘But I was sad about my coffee.’

‘I could always buy you a new one,’ Kuroo offered, and then appeared to regret it.

‘I’d like that,’ Kenma said, pleased, though he’d never show it. ‘There’s a great little shop just a few blocks over.’ 

‘Alright,’ said Kuroo, ‘but you have to drive. I walked here, and my feet are tired.’

‘You walked all the way to Tokyo.’

Kuroo laughed again. ‘No, but I left my car at the hotel. It was only ten blocks, and it’s such a nice day…’

‘Ten blocks made your feet hurt?’

‘...I may have also detoured to Nekoma to see coach…’

Kenma stared at him. ‘Are you stupid? Nekoma’s on the other side of the city! That’s got to be like, seventy blocks round trip. You’re insane. Your feet hurt? You probably have blisters from all that, what the hell?’

‘Nice to know you care. But really, where’s your car? I don’t want to stand any longer than I have to.’

‘Ugh,’ Kenma groaned softly. ‘Come on, stupid. Car’s this way.’

They squeezed into his tiny silver car, crammed in by piles of junk overflowing from the backseat.

‘Dude, what is all this crap?’ asked Kuroo. ‘You never used to be this messy. How old is this?’ he added, picking up a styrofoam take-out container that was leaking noodles of some kind. Kenma winced.

‘Sorry.’ He turned his attention to finding a parking spot.

When the entered the shop, Kuroo breathed deeply, and Kenma understood. The scent of coffee and chocolate and freshly baked pastries filled the air, making the tiny restaurant smell like the ambrosia of the gods. 

Kenma stepped up to the counter. ‘One chocolate caramel latte, please.’ The barista, Heather, nodded her head, silver earrings flashing.

‘Sure thing, Kozume. Anything for your … friend?’ She hesitated, looking at Kuroo, and Kenma couldn’t blame her. Even Heather, with her violet and silver hair and five piercings in each ear, wouldn’t be able to see that Kuroo, with his weird hair and devious smirk, fit with Kenma in any way. Kenma wasn’t even sure they did fit anymore, but he hoped, and perhaps that was enough.

‘I’ll have what he got,’ Kuroo said, in a gentle voice that clearly surprised the barista. She glanced between the boys, thinking, and nodded again.

‘I’ll throw in one of those croissant things you like, Kenma, for free, since you’re on a date and all.’

Kenma startled, and was about to explain, when Kuroo stepped in.

‘Thanks,’ he said, with a tiny smile. ‘Where do you want to sit, Kenma?’ Heather raised an eyebrow at the familiarity, and winked at Kenma, mouthing he’s cute. Kenma rolled his eyes - Heather was desperate to set him up with someone - but it was getting him a free croissant, so he didn’t object.

They found a table while Heather began to make their coffees, and Kenma picked at his fingers, unsure what to say. Finally, he glanced at Kuroo and said, ‘Sorry about Heather. She thinks I’m lonely because I come here on my own all the time, so she’s been trying to set me up with literally anyone she knows is single, so, that’s why…’

Kuroo laughed. ‘I don’t mind. Seeing us walk in together probably made her day.’

‘More like her week,’ Kenma returned, getting up to retrieve their coffees and the croissant.

He set Kuroo’s beverage on the table, taking a sip of his own. Instantly, he relaxed. This coffee was so familiar to him from almost daily visits to the small shop that it sort of tasted like home, if home could have a taste. It was all of his best memories of Tokyo rolled up into a drink that was sweet and bitter all at once, creamy from the melting whipped cream atop it. He heard Kuroo hum in pleasure as he tried his latte, and tilted his head at the taller man, raising one eyebrow.

‘You’re right, this place is really good,’ Kuroo said. ‘You must come here a lot.’

‘Yeah.’ Kenma didn’t want to talk about how often he came to the coffeeshop. However, he also didn’t really want to talk about the past, and having eliminated those possibilities, was left with no idea how to continue the conversation.

Kuroo saved him. ‘So, remind me what your job is, exactly? It’s something with gaming, right?’

‘Yeah, I’m working in game design, doing the coding that builds virtual worlds and stuff like that,’ he replied gratefully. ‘And you’re in … biochemistry?’

‘With plants, especially,’ Kuroo agreed. ‘It’s very technical, but also fun. I suppose you could say the same about game design. It takes a lot of time though, working with the plants and taking all the notations and observing what changes what and figuring out why. This week is the first proper breather I’ve had in months.’

‘Why come to Tokyo then?’ Kenma asked. ‘You could have gone anywhere, yet you would up in that park. Why?’  
‘Nostalgia, I guess.’ Kuroo shrugged, looking away. ‘There are a lot of things in Tokyo I’ve missed, so I thought I’d come visit some of them since I had the chance.’

Have you missed me? Kenma wondered, but didn’t dare ask. ‘Any particular reason why you chose that park?’

‘Well,’ Kuroo stared at his coffee, stirring futilely with the straw, ‘I remember spending a lot of time there when we were kids, so I thought I’d just drive by, but then I saw you and decided I wanted to say hi.’

‘Oh.’ Kenma finished his latte, sighing at the empty cup, but remembered his croissant. He unwrapped it, broke it in half, and offered a piece to Kuroo. Kuroo took it hesitantly, and Kenma watched him taste it before biting into his own piece. Suddenly, he remembered something. ‘I have your old hoodie in my car. It was at my house when you left, and I never gave it back.’

‘My Nekoma hoodie? Is it still intact?’

‘Mostly. Do you want it?’ The last sentence came out quickly, and Kenma tensed against Kuroo’s response. He wasn’t quite ready to give it up yet. 

‘I don’t even know if it still fits,’ Kuroo joked, but their past was inescapably creeping up on them, and Kenma felt the air grow heavier around them. ‘Why’d you keep it all those years?’

‘I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.’ The truth surprised both of them, Kenma because he’d been planning an excuse, Kuroo starting at the idea that his old hoodie held some sentimentality for Kenma.

Kuroo stood. ‘Do you want to go somewhere else?’ He lowered his voice to a whisper, adding, ‘I don’t want to be rude, but your barista friend is totally eavesdropping.’

‘Oh, sure.’ Kenma disposed of his cup and the croissant wrapper, following Kuroo out the door. As they walked a few blocks to the nearest parking spot Kenma had been able to find, he noticed that other people on the sidewalk gave them more space than Kenma normally received, but he chalked it up to a combination of Kuroo’s height, hair, and generally off-putting face. He didn’t mind having people avoid them - it prevented them from bumping into him, but it did make him want to gravitate closer to Kuroo. Kenma started when their fingers brushed, stepping away carefully, hoping Kuroo hadn’t noticed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters I've written so far, because I got to make use of the style of their interactions from the anime. Also, it (finally) explains the title. So here you go, chapter 3, and thanks for reading!

When they clambered back into the car, Kuroo said, ‘You’re anxious about something.’

‘What do you mean?’ Kenma thought he’d been doing a pretty good job of hiding how torn up he was inside.

‘You’re wearing that annoyed face you get when it takes you more than three tries to beat a boss.’

‘I don’t have a face like that.’

‘Yes, you do’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘You do.’

‘I don’t.’

‘You do.’

‘I don’t.’

‘You do.’

Kenma, frustrated by Kuroo’s perceptiveness and stubborn nature, yanked the scarlet sweatshirt out of the chaos in the backseat and chucked it at Kuroo’s face to shut him up.

Kuroo gagged. ‘How long has it been since you washed this thing?’

Kenma shrugged, turning his attention to pulling out of the parking space and maneuvering into the Tokyo streets. ‘About five years.’

He saw Kuroo stiffen in his peripheral vision and cringed internally, afraid the older boy would ask him why. But Kuroo tipped a head to one side, as if thinking, and then slipped the stinking sweatshirt over his head.

Kenma opened his mouth to tell Kuroo that wasn’t necessary, but Kuroo pulled a cd out of his bag and put it in the player. A song moaned out of the speakers, a love song, the kind about missing someone.

‘I didn’t know you liked this artist,’ Kenma said, trying not to show how surprised he was. Kuroo used to refuse to listen to anything that wasn’t either filled with banging drums and screaming guitars (he had been especially fond of death metal, Kenma recalled) or from a soundtrack of something he loved. This soft, sappy, radio style music was so far from Kenma’s idea of Kuroo that he didn’t really know how to react. How much had Kuroo changed in five years? He was afraid to find out.

‘I don’t, really,’ Kuroo replied, studiously focused on the passing buildings of their hometown, ‘but I found the lyrics really hopeful, and it gets stuck in my head a lot, so that’s why I have it. I forgot it was on this cd, actually.’

Kenma heard the unsaid _if I’d remembered, I’d have played something else_. He let the music wash over him, listening to the lyrics in an attempt to understand why, exactly, this song meant so much to Kuroo.

 

_And I want to tell you everything,_

_Words I never got to say_

_The first time around_

 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Then he realized they had just been driving aimlessly through Tokyo, and had ended up outside of Nekoma high school. He pulled up near the volleyball gym, muttering, ‘Old habits really do die hard, I guess.’ Kuroo chuckled softly, but didn’t get out. They sat in the car together. Suddenly, the lyrics reminded Kenma of something.

‘I saw on Facebook a while ago that you had a boyfriend in uni?’ He realized after saying it that he wasn’t sure what he was asking, or why he’d brought it up. Stupid. Now Kuroo was going to wonder why he cared, and probably say something about how great his boyfriend was, and-

‘We broke up.’ Kuroo shrugged when Kenma glanced at him, adding, ‘He got tired of me asking him to play MarioKart at three am when I couldn’t sleep.’

Kenma smiled a bit, unable to help it with the memory washing over him.

 

_‘Kenma? Psst, Kenma!’ A whispered voice outside his window woke Kenma. He rolled over to see Kuroo, bedhead even worse than normal, tapping on the glass with bloodshot, sleepless eyes. Sighing, Kenma crossed the room to open the window, letting Kuroo climb in. Kuroo was lucky he lived on the ground floor, he thought._

_‘Why are you here?’ He asked softly, closing the window behind Kuroo to keep out the autumn chill. ‘It’s like three in the morning. I was asleep.’_

_‘I had a nightmare,’ Kuroo admitted, allowing himself to be vulnerable only here, where only Kenma would ever know. ‘Can we play MarioKart?’_

_Kenma rolled his eyes. ‘Sure, scaredy-cat. But no sound - Mom’s asleep.’_

_They pulled out their DSs, and the room filled with softly flickering light from the screens as they raced against each other, Kuroo as Yoshi, Kenma as Toad, muttering curses at each other and the cpus when they were stuck with shells or ran over bananas._

_Their parents would have been furious to know that this would become a regular occurrence for the two, through the rest of middle school and all of high school, partly because of Kuroo’s dreams and partly because they simply enjoyed it._

_The last time they had played had been Kuroo’s last night of high school, the night before Kenma had broken up with him. He had already known what he was going to do, and let Kuroo win every race but Rainbow Road. Kuroo suspected something - Kenma was basically a god at MarioKart - but he didn’t say anything._

 

Kenma pulled himself out of the memory before he reached the next morning. He wasn’t ready to remember that yet, not with Kuroo sitting here in his car, looking at him expectantly. Kenma realized that the song had changed, to a tune from Disney’s Mulan, and he gave Kuroo a distinctly skeptical face. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’ Kuroo grinned, proud of his music taste. ‘Do you want to go in and watch? Practice should still be going.’

‘Sure.’ No, Kenma didn’t want to go in. Kenma wanted to hug Kuroo tight and make him stay here, in Tokyo, forever. But he couldn’t do that, so he did the next best thing and followed Kuroo into the gym.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I'm going to be leaving on a trip where I won't have reliable access to internet until August, so I'll post another chapter tomorrow and then probably won't update this for a while. I do plan to finish it when I get back, don't worry. For now, enjoy, and thanks for reading!

‘Well, look at that,’ Coach Nekomata barked from the bench, ‘Kuroo here twice in one day. And Kenma! Even better.’ As the man was now nearing ninety years old, Kenma wondered if he should think about retiring, but knew Coach would never hear of it.

‘Hi, Coach,’ he said. ‘How’s the team?’

Nekomata gestured to the gym, filled with twenty or so boys in practice clothes, serving and receiving busily. ‘We’ve got three middle blockers over 180 cm, a setter who’s about ninety percent as good as you were, Kenma, and no ace whatsoever.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve had them practice for hours, but not one of them is capable of battling more than one blocker at a time. All in all, it’s a fairly solid team, but when we had a practice match with Karasuno last week, they won a straight set with only minimal difficulty. I don’t know if we’ll make it to nationals this year. But enough about my troubles, tell me some good news. Frankly, it’s heartening just to see the two of you together again.’ Kuroo laughed awkwardly, and Kenma looked away.

Kuroo broke the momentary silence by saying, ‘Well, like I told you this morning, Coach, I got four days off of work, my first real break since Christmas, and decided to come up to Tokyo because I was feeling nostalgic. I just happened to run into Kenma at a park, and he’s been graciously sparing me taxi fares by driving me around.’

Kenma snorted. ‘I only gave you a ride because you had to try that coffee place, and then I felt bad about the idea of just abandoning you there. You’d have had to walk nearly twenty blocks before you’d reach a place normally trafficked by taxis, and seeing as you already walked all the way here earlier…’

‘Yes, thanks for that. The coffee was exceptional and - what, Coach?’

Nekomata was grinning at them, pleased, his old face wrinkling along familiar creases. ‘Just glad to see you talking like old times. Last I’d heard, you two had a falling out and hadn’t spoken for years.’

‘We really hadn’t,’ Kenma replied, ‘Until Kuroo snuck up on me this morning and scared me into spilling my coffee.’ He gave Kuroo an annoyed glance.

‘Hey,’ Kuroo said, ‘I bought you a replacement. And the barista gave you a free croissant because of me.’

‘Which you ate half of.’

‘You gave it to me!’

Coach laughed, watching the pair squabble. ‘Just like old days. I’ve missed having you two around. Perhaps someday you can come help me with practice. I’ve been looking for an assistant coach, you know.’

They looked at each other, uncertain, and Kuroo turned back to Nekomata. ‘I’d love to come help with a practice or two, Coach, but I live down in Miyagi, and Kenma and I both have day jobs.’

‘I also haven’t touched a volleyball in about four years,’ Kenma muttered.

Nekomata huffed a great guffaw, the sound nearly knocking Kenma over, and said, ‘Ah, well, I guess I’ll have to find a coach elsewhere. If you’re ever free around practice times, feel free to drop on by. Especially you, Kenma, I know you don’t talk to a lot of people, and I would feel better knowing you get out of the house for things besides work and coffee.’ Kenma opened his mouth to object but Nekomata broke in, ‘Arcades don’t count!.’

Kuroo laughed. He laughed so hard it became his ugly laugh, like an asthmatic seagull, and some of the high schoolers turned from putting away the balls to look at him, confused and somewhat concerned. Nekomata roared along, pleased with his joke. Kenma chuckled a bit, too, though in his mind arcades did count as getting out of the house. He couldn’t not laugh when Kuroo was in full-blown ugly cackle mode.

Finally, Kuroo managed to control himself, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes from the ferocity of his laughter. ‘Sorry, Kenma,’ he wheezed, ‘but Coach is right. It doesn’t count as going out if you just stand in front of a game console and don’t talk to anyone.’

Kenma huffed indignantly. ‘I’ve a mind to take that sweatshirt back from you, you jerk.’

‘I’m not the jerk here.’ Kuroo flinched as soon as he’d said it, realizing that it hadn’t been the best response to Kenma’s mostly sarcastic statement.

Kenma winced, feeling the blow of those words, a blow that should have come five years ago, but Kuroo had been so nice about it back then. Kenma should have known that Kuroo had been stewing in those feelings, ready to explode at the slightest touch.

He remembered five years ago, finally letting the memory take him to the day it had all gone to shit.

_He’d woken up that morning, sprawled on the bed with Kuroo snoring beside him, their discarded DSs lying nearby after a few hours of MarioKart. Kenma remembered starting with Rainbow Road - an easy victory for him, one he could do in his sleep - and then deciding to let Kuroo win every other race._

_Why had he done that?_

_Oh._

_That’s right._

_He’d decided that today he was going to break up with Kuroo._

_He almost teared up, lying there in bed, but admonished himself silently._ Don’t be a jerk, Kenma. Don’t cry when you're the one dumping him. If anyone deserves to get emotional, it’s him.

_He felt Kuroo shift beside him, wincing slightly at the knowledge of what he was going to do. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted Kuroo to stay. But. Kuroo had to go to college. And Kenma had to stay behind. And he had decided it would hurt less if they weren’t together anymore._

What an idiot he had been.

_When Kuroo woke up, Kenma was already dressed, hair combed, breakfast cooking on the stove. Kuroo stumbled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, messy(er) hair, and Kenma didn’t turn to look at him. He kept his eyes on the frying pan before him._

_‘Good morning,’ Kuroo mumbled, sliding into one of the chairs at the small wooden table._

_Kenma gave a noncommittal grunt, placing breakfast on plates and bringing it to the table._

_His mother had left for work already, so it was just them in the house. They ate in silence, Kuroo seeming perfectly content, as though nothing was wrong. Kenma supposed that for him, nothing was wrong yet. But for Kenma - … For Kenma it was already the worst day of his life. For Kenma, the silence was filled with shame and discomfort and the knowledge of harsh words to come. For Kenma, today was the last day he’d be able to call Kuroo his, and even though he hadn’t ended it yet, it already hurt._

_Instead of cleaning up when he finished eating, Kenma sat at the table, staring blankly at the wood grain. Finally, Kuroo broke the silence._

_‘What’s wrong, Kenma? Last night you let me win way more than you normally do - don’t object, you know I’d never win a single race if you didn’t let me - and now you’re acting weird and refusing to talk. Did I do something?’_

_‘No.’ Kenma wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this ridiculous, beautiful mess of a man. But. ‘I think we should break up, Kuroo.’_

_He looked up to see the hurt and confusion in Kuroo’s face. He tried to explain. ‘You’re leaving for college soon, and I’m really clingy, and you’ll miss playing MarioKart with me, and you’ll want to come home all the time when you should stay at school, and I’d be horrible at a long-distance relationship, and I think it will hurt us both less if we just end it now.’_

_Kuroo didn’t get mad. He didn’t cry. He didn’t even ask any questions. He just nodded and said, ‘If that’s what you want,’ and left without saying goodbye._

_And Kenma had sat at his kitchen table and cried until he had no tears left, and went to his room to disappear into a videogame for the rest of the day._

_He hadn’t gone to practice for the rest of the week, to the point that Lev called him to ask what was wrong. When he had gone back, like a banshee, sleepless, hollow, dark eyes, refusing to speak, flinching at every mention of Kuroo’s name, Nekomata had patted him on the back in an oddly fatherly way. The team stopped talking about Kuroo, though they still told about memories with the other third-years. And Kenma never said a word during any practice or match for the entire year, even when they’d played Karasuno and Shoyou was hurt by his silence, turning to the tall, dark setter at his side for reassurance that didn’t come._

_In short, Kenma had dumped his boyfriend, and been more bitterly petty about it than Kuroo had._

And now Kuroo was standing in front of him, finally, finally angry about what Kenma had done.

And even now, Kuroo was about to apologize for his words, but Kenma stopped him.

‘I’m sorry.’ God, he’d been needing to say that for so long. ‘I’m sorry. I screwed up. I was wrong. I thought it would hurt less that way, but it didn’t. And I’ve been a jerk about it, I really have. You were so nice about it. You just accepted it. Why didn’t you argue with me? Why -’

‘Because,’ Kuroo interrupted. ‘Because you said you wanted to end it, because I knew how scared you were of what would happen, and because when you let me win all those races I knew you already felt like crap about it, and I didn’t want to make you cry in front of me. Because you would have, and you would have felt like a jerk for doing it, because you were the one who broke up with me, but I wouldn’t have been mad because I would have known how much it meant to you, how much it hurt you to push me away. And I knew you thought it was for the best, so I let go.’

Kenma blinked, feeling the tears come to his eyes, and suddenly, it was all too much. He walked out and sat in his car. How could Kuroo say these things? How could he be so nice, even now? Kenma didn’t understand. So he did what he always did when he didn’t understand something - he ran away. He started the car and left, not even glancing in the rear view mirror to see if Kuroo was there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone I'm back! So sorry I forgot to post the other chapter I promised, but it's here now. More coming soon, maybe within the week if I have time. Thanks for being patient with me, I hope this is worth it. Love you all.

Half an hour of frantic driving and one teary coffee order later, Kenma was back in the park. His knees pulled up to his chest as he leaned against a tree, he sipped his latte and pulled out his DS. Grey clouds hung heavy overhead, and Kenma hoped it wouldn’t rain as he turned on his game and resumed his adventure. 

Videogames are safer than people, he thought. They’re predictable. A leads to B leads to C. None of this leaping from one thing to another. And no emotions either. A game is a good friend - it lets you stop existing.

He sat there in silence for an hour or so, half hoping Kuroo would show up, but he didn’t, and Kenma felt a raindrop, so he went home.

The next morning, Saturday, he woke up early, blinking into the pre-dawn darkness of his room. He looked at the clock - 3:24 am. His arms reached instinctively for his ghost, finding nothing under the pillow when he scrabbled for the sweatshirt that was always there. That woke him up. Where was it - oh.

Yesterday. Kuroo. Memories.

Shit.

Kenma rolled over and pulled his DS off the bedside table. The title screen for Pokemon HeartGold came up when he turned it on, but he wanted something else at that moment. 

Getting up, he scrabbled through his drawers until he found what he wanted, tucked away in the back of the bottom drawer of his dresser, where it had been since he moved into the apartment. He clicked it into the slot and turned on the DS again.

Mariokart.

He’d missed this game, he realized, as he flew down Rainbow Road with a golden mushroom. It was a great way to relieve stress in the wee hours of the morning when his sleep was interrupted. Of course, this was the first time since high school that he’d woken up at this hour, mostly by virtue of not having Kuroo to wake him up.

Kuroo, who had been constantly plagued with nightmares throughout his childhood and teenage years. Kenma had never dared to wonder if the nightmares had continued through college, whether Kuroo had found someone else to keep him company until the fear went away. Kenma knew that if he thought about it, he would feel guilty, and there were few feelings Kenma hated more.

But tonight, he allowed himself to think about Kuroo, who had shown up so suddenly the day before. Kuroo, who had always felt comfortable inserting himself into Kenma’s life whenever he wanted. Kuroo, who Kenma had been to afraid to dance with at the school dance in front of everyone, though they’d done it a thousand times in his cramped bedroom. Kuroo, who’d driven for hours to come to Tokyo on his first vacation in months. Kuroo, who now had his sweatshirt back and had no more reason to spend time with Kenma. 

Kuroo, the man he still loved despite all reason.

Kuroo, who surely no longer loved him.

At five, Kenma decided he wasn’t going back to sleep, and got dressed. He scrambled together an early breakfast, trying to decide what he’d do if he saw Kuroo again today. For Kuroo had said he’d gotten the whole weekend off, and surely he was still in Tokyo. But maybe he wouldn’t want to see Kenma, after how Kenma had walked out on him yesterday.

He glanced at the clock again. 5:30. You know, Kenma realized suddenly, morning practice is at 7:00. I could go and help Coach. And maybe get some advice, if Kuroo’s not there.

So he played Pokemon for about an hour, thinking furiously about what he would do if Kuroo showed up at practice. Finally, at 6:25, he hopped in his cluttered silver car and drove to Nekoma high school. He pulled in beside the gym just as Coach Nekomata was climbing the stairs, and the old man turned and waved at Kenma as he got out of his car.

‘Good to see you this morning, Kenma.’ He said, smiling. ‘It’s probably been a while since you got up this early.’

Kenma nodded, smiling a bit. Coach always knew how to make him feel better. It was one of the things that made him a great coach.

‘Come on in then.’ Coach waved him inside, smiling. ‘You’re going to get a real workout today.’  
Kenma flinched, trying to recall how long it had been since he’d done proper exercise (college? High school?) but he didn’t say anything, because he could see the glimmer in Nekomata’s eyes that meant he was joking. Mostly.

Slowly, the team began to arrive and set up, and Nekomata had Kenma run the warm-ups and announce what they would be drilling that day (serves and spikes) and they set to work. Afterward, sweaty and exhausted, Kenma went to sit on the bench with Nekomata while the team cleaned up. Kuroo (fortunately? unfortunately? Kenma wasn’t sure) had not shown up.

Once the team had trickled out of the gym to change and hang out elsewhere, Kenma turned to find Coach already looking at him.

‘So,’ Nekomata said slowly, ‘what made you decide to come?’

Kenma sighed. He’d really taken up a habit of sighing in the last twenty-four hours, and wasn’t sure he liked it. ‘Well, I woke up early, and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I figured since I had the time…’ He trailed off, seeing that Nekomata wasn’t buying it. It was the truth, but it wasn’t why he’d come. Kenma gave in. ‘I came because of Kuroo.’

Nekomata nodded. ‘I figured as much. He didn’t tell you he was coming, did he?’

‘No. Just snuck up on me in the park and made me spill my coffee.’

Nekomata laughed. 

Kenma smiled a bit as well and added, somewhat indignantly, ‘And I almost got it on my DS, too.’

‘So,’ Nekomata said, ‘he didn’t warn you at all. Just showed up, scared you, took you out for coffee, came here with you, and then left after you ran away. Seems like all lot of trouble to go from Miyagi to Tokyo for one day with a confused ex who then runs away when you nearly admit to still liking him.’

Kenma froze. ‘He went home?’

‘Went back to Miyagi, yes. He seemed pretty sad after you left.’ Nekomata sighed. ‘He also left his address, just in case you changed your mind.’ 

Kenma’s mind was reeling. Kuroo had left. Kuroo might still like him? How had Kuroo gotten home? Had Nekomata gotten him a taxi or a bus or something? Kuroo might still like him?! Why had Kuroo gone home? Did Kuroo think Kenma hated him? Why had he run away? Kuroo might still like him!?! 

Nekomata held out a slip of paper. ‘I think you’re going to want this.’

Kenma took it, looking from the words and numbers to Nekomata’s face. ‘What should I do?’ he asked quietly, completely and utterly lost, as he had been once in Miyagi all those years ago, when Shoyou found him. Nekomata’s face softened, taking on the air of a kindly father.

‘Do you love him?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Then you should go.’ He patted Kenma’s shoulder, winked, and left the gym, leaving Kenma staring at a scrap of paper, mind whirling faster than it ever had.

‘That’s it,’ he said finally, the quiet but fierce words echoing through the gym. He changed back into his street clothes, climbed into his car, and went home.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Thanks for bearing with me, I have the next chapter pretty much written so that should be up soon as well. I think there might only be three more chapters - we'll see how long I drag it out. This was supposed to be a much more angsty fic than it turned out, but I like it, and I hope you do too! Thanks for reading!

The next morning, he woke up filled with resolve. I have to do this he thought, hating that knowledge, wanting nothing more than to climb back into bed and beat the next gym leader on HeartGold. But. He had work to do.

He made a quick breakfast - eggs and toast, orange juice - and tried to find an outfit that would make him look confident. The best he found was a pair of grey slacks and a navy t-shirt with tiny line-art cats all over it. He stuffed a grey beanie on his head in an attempt to improve the outfit, only to toss it off in disgust a moment later when he considered how warm it was outside. Finally, he pulled on his galaxy print Vans and walked out the door.

In the car, he tried to listen to K-pop, then rock, then techno, but they were all too energetic and something was missing. So he begrudgingly turned on the radio, only to hear an all-too-familiar pop ballad that had played from Kuroo’s CD two days before. And strangely, it was those slow, wistful notes and words that gave him greater resolve, that strengthened his confidence.

He went to the coffee shop first, arriving before hours, but Heather saw him through the window and let him in.

‘You’re out and about rather early today,’ she remarked.

‘Yeah, sorry, I just need the caffeine to be able to do this.’

‘Do what? Kenma, what am I always telling you about being more specific?’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘This doesn’t have anything to do with that adorable boy you were here with the other day, does it?’

‘Actually, it has everything to do with him. You see, he’s my ex.’

Heather gasped. ‘I knew it!’ she shrieked triumphantly. ‘I knew there was some reason you refused to go on any dates. Was he horrible to you? What happened?’

‘He was never anything but wonderful.’ Kenma said sadly. ‘The break-up was my fault, when he was leaving for college. I’m a year younger, so I thought it would be better to avoid the long-distance thing, but it’s been five years and I’ve regretted it every day.’

‘But you seemed to get on well, when he was here with you? Do you think he still likes you?’

‘I have no idea, Heather. That’s why I’m going down to Miyagi to apologize and ask him out.’

Heather grinned, clapping like an excited child. ‘Good. He better take you back. I don’t care what you did, you deserve to be with the guy you love. Now, I gotta stop chattering and make your coffee so you can scoot! You want one of those pastry things?’

‘Sure, Heather.’ Kenma almost smiled. Heather was one of the few friends he had made outside of his job, mostly because it was impossible not to be friends with Heather - if she wanted to be your friend, it happened. And she wanted to be friends with everyone, even a grumpy introverted gamer.

When the coffee was ready, she packed up a pastry for him and handed over the food, saying, ‘You take care now, and go get your man!’ Kenma chuckled a bit and left the shop.

When he turned on the car, he was blasted with the sounds of a pop song in broken Spanglish, and frantically slammed the seek button until he found a station playing something calmer. He left the downtown streets, and soon was cruising on a highway down to Miyagi.

As he drove, listening to the radio (and desperately switching stations to avoid listening to songs he hated) he pondered what, exactly, he was doing. It was pure insanity to drive four and a half hours across Japan to see an ex that probably didn’t even like him anyway. But. Kenma knew he needed to do it. However, he thought, _maybe I could get one more person’s advice first_.

Pulling out his phone, he called an old friend who also happened to be living in the Miyagi area. It only rang once before an energetic voice answered.

‘What’s up Kenma! You like never call me but then sometimes you do and it’s like gwaaah! Like you still remember me even though your team was always better than mine and that’s like so cool! But did you need something? You probably did because you only call me when you do.’

‘Hi, Shoyou,’ Kenma sighed, having forgotten what a ball of energy his friend is. ‘I’m headed down toward Miyagi, is it alright if I drop in for a bit? Sorry for the short notice.’

‘No yeah that’s totally fine I mean Kageyama is here too but I can make him leave if you want there’s a nice noodle place down the street we go to a lot and they have this one dish that’s got all these vegetables and stuff and it’s really savory but also sweet and weirdly healthy and - oh sorry I got off track but you can totally come over.’

‘Thanks. Are you and Kageyama still together then? Everytime I see you two it looks like he’s about to rip your head off, but I suppose the fact that he doesn’t suggests that he really does … love ….you.’ Kenma trailed off, distracted by thoughts of his own difficulties with love.

‘Hey Kenma is everything all right? You know what tell me when you get here that’s probably why you’re coming anyway right? Anyway Kageyama’s being a dumbass so I have to go bye!’

Kenma tossed the phone onto the passenger seat in disgust and relief, shaking his head. At least he’d be able to talk this out with Shoyou, although he was a most unpredictable audience at the best of times. He certainly hoped Kageyama would be gone by the time he got there. While he had to admit the dark-haired setter had talent, the guy had always given Kenma the creeps.

Sighing again, he turned up the radio, only to hear a certain song for the third time.

_Yesterday I thought I saw your shadow running round_

_It’s funny how things never change in this old town_

_So far from the stars_

_And I want to tell you everything_

_The words I never got to say the first time around_

_And I remember everything_

_From when we were the children playing in this fairground_

_Wish I was there with you now_

_I’ll be with you soon, Kuroo_ , Kenma thought, and drove on, barely bothering to glance in the rear view mirror.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Back again! Sorry this is such an irregular schedule, school - and life in general - have been crazy. This chapter is really short, but the climax is coming soon, I promise. I do have an essay to start writing, but hopefully Chap 8 will be up this weekend. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

The miles of busy highways flew by until Kenma took an exit and headed down into the city of Sendai. He maneuvered through the twisted streets, arriving at a grey apartment complex deep in the residential area. Climbing three flights of stairs (and sighing under his breath the entire way because a. there should have been an elevator and b. dammit Shoyou, couldn’t you have gotten an apartment on a lower floor?) he finally arrived, gasping for breath, at the door of apartment 19.

Kenma knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, it opened, revealing a young man about Kenma’s height, with shockingly orange hair and visible energy struggling to escape his body as the man bounced on his toes.

‘Hi Kenma!’ he exclaimed, opening the door wider to let Kenma in.

‘Why do you have to live on the fourth floor?’ Kenma wheezed, shooting a disdainful glance back toward the staircase.

Shoyou shrugged. ‘It’s fun to race Kageyama up the stairs. But what did you want to talk about?’ He stepped further into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Kenma sighed, sagging onto a green couch in the living room. ‘You know that Kuroo lives here in Sendai, right?’

Hinata stilled. ‘Yeah...so this is about...you two?’

‘Yeah, he … he showed up in Tokyo a couple days ago without warning, nearly scared the crap out of me, we ended up getting coffee and visiting Coach, and then we started talking about what happened between us and I got scared and left, and then I guess he decided to come back here, but he left me his address with Coach, and I’m so confused about whether that means that he still likes me or if it was maybe just an invitation to restart our friendship but I came here to … to see him, I guess, and find out where it goes.’

‘Oh,’ Shoyou said, whooshing out a breath. ‘Oh, shit. That’s … that’s crazy. I have no idea what I would do in if that happened to me and Kageyama, but I think you should go for it. Kuroo does everything for a reason. Go see him, and hope that you come out as friends at least, and maybe … maybe more. Don’t be afraid of him. You know better than anyone that he’s not the creepy jerk he might seem at first.’

Kenma nodded, looking at his balled fists in his lap, then slowly opened his fingers and pressed them against the seat of the couch. He stood up, took a deep breath, and nodded at Kenma. ‘Okay. Okay, I’ll go. But first … are there any decent coffee places in town?’

Shoyou laughed, some of his normal effervescent energy returning. ‘Not in the direction you’re going - and don’t you tell me that’s fine. If you start walking away from him again, you probably won’t turn around.’

Kenma sighed, looking through his bleached hair at Shoyou, who was giving him a kind death stare. ‘No coffee?’

‘No. You go see Kuroo now, and maybe you can go out for coffee together. But first, you go talk to him. Believe me, talking through issues is the only way to resolve them. I know better than a lot of people - I put up with Kageyama.’

Chuckling, Kenma nodded. ‘Okay. Kuroo first, then coffee. Okay. I should go then. Bye, Shoyou.’

‘Hey, you know what?’ Shoyou said suddenly, “There’s like, an office dance or something at Kuroo’s work tomorrow night. You should totally go with him.’

Flinching slightly, Kenma shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. We...have a bad history with public dances.’ _Yelling that I didn’t want to go to prom with him and dance in front of everyone and then him getting annoyed about having to go alone was enough to convince me that dancing outside of one of our bedrooms was not something I’d ever be willing to do. Not that it makes me feel any better about having stood Kuroo up back then - I just couldn’t face it._

‘Okay, well, I’ll just let you go then. If you start coming to Miyagi more, for no specific reason,’ Shoyou grinned, ‘stop in and see me, okay?’

‘Only if you get an apartment on the ground floor,’ Kenma grumbled amiably, reaching for the doorknob. ‘Have fun with your grumpy guy.’

‘You bet,’ Shoyou winked at Kenma, who shook his head as he shut the apartment door behind him, left in blissful silence again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Fluff Alert! This chapter may cause cavities!*
> 
> You all are not even ready for this I just, I think this is my favorite chapter that I've written. I think there might be one more after this, but it's definitely approaching the end. I want to thank you all for taking the time to read this, and now that I've written a proper fanfic, I feel so honored that there are people out there who do this all the time, and who write ones that are 50000+ words. This fic is currently about 10000 words total (crazy, I can't believe I wrote this much) and it's 24 pages in a Google Doc! 
> 
> Anyway, ignore my rants. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

He climbed into his car once more, bones and muscles complaining about spending so much time cramped in the grey suede seats. Sighing, Kenma turned on the engine, letting the hum of the mechanics drown out some of his frantic thoughts. He turned on the radio, and it was playing that song again; apparently it was popular right then. He took a few deep breaths. Then, he shifted into reverse, pulled out, and drove into the city.

Kuroo’s home was about a mile away from Shoyou’s apartment, a peacful drive through winding residential streets. When Kenma pulled up in front of the pleasant brick house, ivy creeping up the wall on one side of the door, he sat in the car for several minutes.

 _What now?_ He thought. _Do I just walk up and hope he’s there and wants to see me? This was a stupid idea. I can’t believe I drove four hours to see someone who probably doesn’t even want to see me. Pathetic. Maybe I should just go home - or at least get coffee. I didn’t -_

The door swung open, and a familiar silhouette appeared in the entrance. ‘What -’ he said, before recognizing the car. ‘Kenma?

 _Shit. Well, here goes nothing._ Kenma turned the car off, but didn’t get out, trying to puzzle his fractured thoughts together.

Kuroo walked up to the car and knocked on the window. Sighing, Kenma opened the door, looking up at his former teammate.

‘Hi,’ he said carefully, ‘I hope it’s okay that I’m here. I didn’t really think about it. Coach gave me your address and I just kinda-’

He was interrupted by Kuroo wrapping him in a hug. ‘You idiot,’ Kuroo breathed, ‘I’m glad you’re here.’

‘Oh.’ Kenma buried his face in Kuroo’s shoulder, and the other man just pulled him closer. _Oh._

After a minute or so, they broke apart, Kuroo looking slightly awkward but pleased, Kenma blushing at the ground. ‘Come inside, why don’t you,’ Kuroo said, placing a hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder to lead him into the house.

From the inside, Kuroo’s house was even more welcoming. A lovely living room with a blue couch and teal armchair lead into a dining room with a small chandelier, which was connected to a smallish but modern-looking kitchen. Most of the decor was done in shades of blue and green, with a few red or orange accents. Kenma noticed that the scarlet Nekoma hoodie had been tossed on the couch, and appeared to have a lump of something under it. While Kuroo didn’t keep his house perfectly clean, it was nowhere near the disaster zone that Kenma’s apartment had become over the years. Here, the mess made the place feel lived in, like a home, not a pigsty.

‘Nice place,’ Kenma commented quietly.

‘Thanks.’ Kuroo gestured at the bright rooms. ‘Biochemistry pays pretty well, as it happens, and while I didn’t really need all the space, I missed the light. Mid-range apartments never have enough windows.’

Kenma laughed. ‘You haven’t changed a bit.’

Shrugging, Kuroo replied, ‘Nothing wrong with liking natural light.’

‘Of course not.’

‘Just because you’d rather live in a cave-’ Kuroo teased.

Snorting quietly, Kenma looked up at him. ‘It makes it easier to see the screens!’

‘It’s not good for you to stare at technology all day, you know.’

‘Shut up.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Pfft.’

‘So….what, exactly, brought you down here? It’s a long way from Tokyo.’

‘You would know.’

Kuroo laughed. ‘Yes, which is why I’m curious as to what is so important that you’d come all the way to Miyagi, and how you ended up outside my house.’

‘You know the answer to the second part - you left your address with Coach! And … I guess I couldn’t leave things that way. We used to be friends; we were really close. I guess I was wondering if you came to Tokyo on pure whimsy, or if maybe you wanted to be close again.’

‘Kenma, I, it’s compli-’

‘Because I do. I miss you, Kuroo. I’ve missed you every single day since I told you goodbye. I slept with your old hoodie under my pillow and refused to wash it even after all these years because it still smelled like you. I hadn’t been able to play Mariokart since that night, until you showed up in Tokyo and reminded me how to live instead of just going through the motions. I didn’t really have any friends in Tokyo. Sure, I had Heather, and there were some nice people at work, but there wasn’t anyone I was really close to. When I heard you had another boyfriend, it wrecked me. I didn’t go to work for three days. Heather basically had to drag me there, after coaxing me out of the house with free croissants! I - I love you, Kuroo. I did back then, and I never stopped. I know I was an idiot and messed everything up, but please, if there’s any way for us to even just be friends again, I want to try it. I don’t want to have to live without you anymore.’

Kuroo stared at him, blinking beneath that stupid cowlick-mohawk hybrid he hadn’t changed since high school.

‘You know what? I’ll just go. Sorry for intruding on your day, bye, I need coffee anyw-’

‘Kenma.’

Kenma turned and looked at Kuroo, realizing as he peered at the other man that he was holding back tears.

‘Kenma, please. Don’t go. Don’t leave me again. I - I missed you too. And I want to try and put this mess that we’ve become back together. I want to play Mariokart at ridiculous hours of the night again. I want - there’s a dance at my office tomorrow; I know you hate public dances but - I thought maybe - there won’t be that many people, like thirty of us maybe? You don’t even have to dance at all if you don’t want to.’

Kuroo looked at him uncertainly, eyes glinting with tears. Kenma stood there, wanting to run away and fall into his arms all at once, when that song came back into his head.

_If the whole world was watching, I’d still dance with you,_

_Drive highways and byways to be there with you_

_I drove highways to be with you, Kuroo, after you did the same for me. The least I can do is be brave about this. I love you; I can dance with you when other people are watching. It’s not like … like our team was the only group of people in the world that doesn’t care that I’m pan._

‘I’ll go with you.’ It came out rougher than he intended, his voice creaking from the need to get the words out.

‘Really? Great! Cool - but remember, you don’t have to dance. You can sit in the corner and eat all the food and play Pokemon if you want -’

‘No. Kuroo, I want to be with you. I want to dance with you. I’m done being afraid of what people might say. I’m going to dance with the man I love, no matter who’s watching, and I’m not going to let me hold myself back. You drove to Tokyo on your ‘vacation’, I drove here to see you. I might as well dance with you while I’m here.’

Kuroo couldn’t stand it anymore, throwing his arms around the shorter man again. ‘I love you, Kenma. And I always knew there was more emotion behind that mask than you ever let through.’ He smirked.

Kenma chuckled, and melted into his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh I'm so sorry this took so long to post I've been - college is insane, folks. I'm gonna leave it at that. Anyway, this is the last chapter! Thank you for sticking with me and bothering to read this story; you have no idea how much it means to me to know that people are reading and (hopefully) enjoying my work.

Kenma had been planning to stay in a hotel that night, but Kuroo had plenty of spare rooms in his house, and after a dinner-and-coffee run, they went back to the charming brick building. They played Pokemon side-by-side on the couch until nearly midnight, before departing to their separate rooms to sleep. Kenma had forgotten to bring pajamas, and they both laughed when Kuroo dug through his room and emerged with a scarlet sweatshirt. 

Shifting in the strangely clean sheets, aware of Kuroo just a few rooms over, Kenma struggled to fall asleep. His normally hyperactive mind was running at hyperspeed, unable to calm down. Recalling the events of that day, he decided it couldn’t have gone much better. But even that knowledge couldn’t relax him enough to grasp sleep. He glanced at the clock. 3:42. Kenma sighed. Then his ears caught a sound, and he jolted upright.

“Psssst. Psst. Kenma? Are you awake?” Kenma climbed out of bed and crossed to the door. Kuroo was standing just outside, eyes drooping from lack of sleep, hair even messier than normal. A loose t-shirt hung over his flannel pants, and he blinked wearily at Kenma. “Couldn’t you sleep either?” he teased quietly. 

Kenma just looked at him. Kuroo sighed. “Can I come in?” Kenma tilted his head, confused. Kuroo lifted one hand to reveal his DS Lite. “Mariokart?” Kenma laughed, nodding.

They piled onto the bed together as they had done so many times before, a little stiffer and less certain of each other then they had been back then. Kenma loaded the cartridge into his DS, and the races were on. Kuroo put up a good fight; he’d obviously spent a lot of time with this game in the last few years, when Kenma was still moping too much to get past the title screen. Still, Kenma won every race but one. Kuroo looked at him after crossing the finish line, raising an eyebrow.

“You totally let me win that one,” he said. “Why?”

Kenma shrugged and adjusted himself so his head laid on Kuroo’s chest. “Rainbow Road. It was the first race I let you win that night. You thought you actually beat me that time.” He laughed sadly. “I guess I’m still trying to apologize for what came after.”

“It’s okay, I forgave you years ago. I should have come to Tokyo sooner, but I let my work get in the way. ‘Too busy’ I told myself. And ‘he might not want to see you anyway’. I should be apologizing. That other guy I-”

“Shhhh. I don’t care. You’re here, and I’m here, and we’re together again, and that’s what matters. Don’t stress yourself out about it, you big dork.”

Kuroo relaxed and wrapped an arm around him, and they played a few rounds of Balloon Battle before Kenma fell asleep. Setting the electronics aside, Kuroo pulled his boyfriend closer and drifted off happy.

 

The next day, Kenma woke up late, blankets tucked around him, still wearing Kuroo’s Nekoma hoodie, and for a moment, it was almost like waking up at home. Then he remembered that he was in Miyagi, and that there should be a warm Kuroo tucked in beside him. He got up slowly, muttering under his breath about how annoying it was to come all this way and stay up so late and not even get to wake up with Kuroo right there like he should have. 

In the kitchen, a small but tidy room with large windows (Kenma noted them with a fond glare) and many cupboards, Kenma found a note on the counter. Kuroo had work that he had had to leave for; that made sense, and the note led Kenma to the microwave, where his breakfast was waiting to be warmed up, and the coffeepot, from which he filled a mug found after searching through a number of the cabinets. 

He spent the day exploring Kuroo’s house, and found a room in the basement that was carpeted, furnished with a desk and two chairs, no windows to be found. The perfect room for gaming. Kenma wondered a bit at the second chair (it made the setup look strangely like the one he had kept in his room to play with Kuroo back in high school) but decided it didn’t matter too much. 

When Kuroo got home in the early afternoon, he found Kenma holed up in this little dungeon room, battling the Elite Four. He laughed, and Kenma looked up from his DS.

“I should have known I’d find you down here.”

“It’s cozy. Not warm enough, though.”

“I see that,” Kuroo said, gesturing to the blankets Kenma had pulled off of his bed and was currently cocooned in in his chair. Settling himself in the other chair, Kuroo added, “Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, but I went to work early so I could come home early, too. I realized this dance is kind of a nice event, and you didn’t even bring pajamas so I figured we’d have to go to the mall to get you something for this. If you still want to go…” He trailed off, looking at Kenma uncertainly.

“I said I would go, and I will. It’s fine, Kuroo, I’ll be fine. When’s the dance?”

“9:30.”

“It’s what, about four, right now? We should go to the mall now so we’re not in a rush later.”

“Yeah, and so you have time to try on every option there is, you ridiculously picky-”

“There is nothing picky about wanting to be comfortable! Do you know how hard it is to find a good suit that doesn’t itch or pinch or anything?”

“You forget that I am also a man, and have bought many suits in my time,” Kuroo replied, smiling. “Most stores in Japan don’t carry pants that fit people as tall as me.”

“Shut up.”

 

Three hours and nearly a hundred suits later, Kenma had his clothes. Exhausted, they piled back into his car, and Kenma sighed with relief.

‘What are you so happy about?” Kuroo snorted. “I had to drag you around to all these stores and watch you reject suit after suit after suit after-”

“Complain later,” Kenma interrupted wearily. “Coffee first.”

“Okay.”

They found their way to the best coffeeshop in town, and had just sat down with their drinks (and Kenma’s croissant) when they heard a bright voice above them.

“Kenma! You found him! Oh, I knew it! I totally called it!”

Startled, Kenma looked up into a face framed with violet hair and silver piercings grinning fiercely at the two boys. “Heather? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, my aunt lives nearby, and we always come here when I come up to see her because we both love coffee so much! What a coincidence to bump into you here, although I suppose you never get your coffee from anywhere but the best places.”

“Your croissants are better,” Kenma offered, then added, “Did I introduce you to Kuroo yet? Heather this is Kuroo, my -”

“Boyfriend,” Kuroo supplied, seeing the uncertain look on Kenma’s face. “We were together in high school, and we hadn’t seen each other for five years until the day he brought me into your shop.”

Heather laughed. “That’s adorable. I’m so happy for you two. Tell Kenma he needs to spend more time outside. Well, I should get back to my aunt, but I’m so glad I spotted you guys! Take care now!” She disappeared as quickly as she had come, leaving the two men in startled silence. 

Finally, Kuroo laughed. “She really cares about you, huh.”

“Yeah, it’s awful. She’s always trying to get me to sign up for exercise programs or promise her that I’ll walk a mile every day. But she makes my coffee right and always gives me the freshest croissants, so I put up with her.”

“So her biggest fault is that she tries to keep you alive?” Kuroo’s signature smirk peeked out of his failed attempt at a straight face, and Kenma burst out laughing. Kuroo joined him, and the cafe stared at the two mismatched men with weird hair and weirder laughs, and Kenma found that he didn’t mind at all.

He danced every dance with Kuroo that night, keeping close to him, never shrinking when Kuroo introduced him as ‘my boyfriend’, and found that he was happier than he had been in a very long time. Near the end of the dance, he snuck over to the DJ and requested a song, and when the music changed, Kuroo stared at him as he recognized the opening guitar. 

Kenma laughed, pulled his boyfriend into his arms, and kissed him for the first time in five years, not caring that everyone could see.


End file.
